Friday Night
by Surrealtraversity
Summary: This story is based on Cute Is What We Aim For's song: The Fourth Drink Instinct. Hermione was always the smart one. So why is she spending so much time at the bar? Bad summary. One shot?


This story was inspired by Cute Is What We Aim For's song: The Fourth Drink Instinct.

Disclaimer: I don't own CIWWAF (I wish… ha-ha) or their song, and I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it. There. Disclaimer, done.

Note: I'm not really sure if the rating is correct. I put it as M just to be safe, even though there is nothing really explicit about this story. If you think I should take it down to T, please tell me in a review or message.This is not HBP compatible.

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Hermione woke to find herself in a hotel room once again, alone, with a massive hangover. She didn't have to see her clothes scattered across the floor to know what had happened last night; she didn't need to feel the after affects of the alcohol to know what she'd done. 

She'd gone to that club again, despite her better judgment. She hadn't had a boyfriend in months, and there were always guys at the bar she went to. Each time she went, some guy would eventually come up to her and talk to her. She always got her hopes up thinking maybe her single streak would end, especially when they'd ask to take her home or go to a hotel. She always agreed by the fourth drink or so. They would insist that it would only be a one-night-stand, but she always thought that maybe if she was good enough in bed, maybe they'd stay.

It never worked that way, though. By the time she would wake up the next morning, they were always long gone.

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Hermione trudged through another week of work, and by the following Friday night she was feeling particularly lonely again. She changed out of her work clothes from the ministry and grabbed her purse, setting out for the bar again.

It was only around nine when she got there, so the club wasn't that full. She walked straight to the bar and sat down at her usual Friday night chair, and the bartender handed her a glass of her usual drink of choice. She downed it quickly, and asked for another.

"Hermione, why don't you lay off the drinks this week? You could go to a nice dance club and have a little fun."

"I'm fine, Josh, I'm fine. Just give me one more, okay?" she asked with a smile forced into play.

Josh sighed and slid another glass across the counter to her. "One of these days I'm just going to cut off your supply," he said as he took her empty glass.

"No you won't, because I'd just find some random bar to go to," Hermione retorted.

Josh shook his head sadly. "You're better off sober, Hermione. A pretty girl like you doesn't need to be drunk. You only push the good guys away, and reel in the bad ones."

Hermione simply smiled and continued with her drinks, and half way through her third drink a man slid into the seat next to her. He didn't even look her way to start a conversation. "Hermione Granger drinking, sitting alone at a bar," he laughed. "I never would have believed it if you would have told me the next place I'd run into you after Hogwarts would be here."

Hermione looked up at the man next to her, but she didn't recognize him at all. He had amazing stormy eyes, but the eyes were the only thing she even thought she remembered.

"Things have changed in the last six years," she whispered. "As have you, apparently."

The man smiled at her and downed a shot. "You don't recognize me," he murmured.

"No, I don't," she agreed. "Should I?"

"I don't know," he mused. "Probably not, because of my concealment charms."

"Concealment charms?" she questioned.

"I didn't want to be recognized," he said, waving away her question. He gave her a curious look as she finished her fourth drink. She was clearly feeling the affects of the alcohol. "Come on, Hermione, I'm getting you out of here. I'd never hear the end of it if I let you get raped by some guy because I left you drunk at a club," he said as he pulled her to her feet. She swayed and he quickly put an arm around her just before she blacked out.

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Hermione groaned and put her hand over her eyes, wishing she hadn't woken up. Her head was pounding worse than it normally did on her typical Saturday mornings. She pushed at the weight, whatever it was, on her stomach and screamed when someone whispered in her ear.

"Sleeping beauty awakes."

Hermione's eyes shot open. It took her a minute to realize the weight on her stomach was an arm, and the arm belonged to a man that was holding her rather protectively. There were two things wrong with this picture: they were fully clothed, and the guy was here. She was really wishing she remembered something from the previous night.

"Drink this," he murmured, handing her a glass. She looked at it warily, and he laughed. "It's a hangover potion," he said.

Hermione downed it quickly and felt the hangover fade, until she felt like she would on any other morning. She continued to stare at the man that hadn't left that night. "Who are you?" She asked.

He grinned and pulled out his wand, muttering a spell. Immediately his concealment charms were removed, and Hermione gasped. She was staring at none other than Draco Malfoy.

"You know, I always wondered what happened to you after Hogwarts. We dated for the last half of our seventh year, and then you disappeared on me. I became an auror at the ministry. I tried to find you, but everything I tried lead to a dead end."

"I got a job with the Department of Mysteries, and I had to go to China for special training for a while. I didn't have contact with anyone for a while," Hermione said quietly.

"Hermione, why do you do this to yourself?" Draco asked after a while.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, refusing to look at him.

"Hermione look at me," Draco said as he tucked a finger gently under her chin and tilted her head towards him. "Why do you drink like this?"

"I don't know anymore," she mumbled. Draco sighed and wrapped his arms around her.

"You know, you don't really have to. You could stop and clean yourself up, and I promise, you'll be happier." Hermione gave him a skeptical look. Draco sighed. "I'll help you, Hermione. I'll help you get through this."

Hermione thought about it a while, and just when Draco was about to try another way to convince her, she agreed. Draco grinned.

"Draco, where does this leave us?" Hermione asked, suddenly wishing she had been more specific. As always though, Draco knew what she meant.

"We're friends, Hermione. Maybe one day we'll be more than that like when we were seventeen, but I don't think it would be a wise decision now considering we haven't talked in six years. I don't want to get into it unless I know there is still something there between us."

Hermione nodded, and Draco hugged her before laying her down gently on her bed as he got up. "Drink this," he said as he handed her a sleeping draught. "A drunken sleep isn't restful, and you need rest." Hermione drank it, and Draco gave her a satisfied smile. "I've got some things I need to do if I'm going to help you, but go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up," he said quietly. Hermione nodded and slowly drifted off to sleep, more optimistic now than she had been in years.


End file.
